Rebirth
by Scruffy-looking
Summary: The Caped Crusader may have foiled him this time, but nothing can keep the Demon's Head down forever... A short vignette inspired by Batman Begins
1. Chapter 1

This is a short vignette I was inspired to write after watching _Batman Begins. _In the future I plan to write a longer story featuring Batman and a certain favorite 'vine lady' of everyone's, but for now hope you enjoy!

_Disclaimer: Batman Begins is the intellectual property of Warner Brothers and DC Comics. Used here only for noncommercial purposes._

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**Rebirth  
Chapter 1  
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_He screamed--a primal roar of mindless rage and hatred..._

...He was himself at last. The rage had ebbed away in a final paroxysm.

Standing up, Ra's al Gul surveyed the cold austere room, completely empty except for himself. For the past few weeks none of his remaining followers had dared disturb him--a most wise precaution, since he would kill anyone and anything that came near him while he was recovering. But the Pit had performed its function as it had so many times in the past, and now he was whole.

Wrapping his cloak around him, his thoughts drifted inexorably back to the City, and his struggles with.. _him._ Gritting his teeth, he could not speak his name as a new wave of cold anger filled him. "My greatest pupil... my long-hoped for protégé..." The words dribbled out like poisoned drops

He had betrayed him. Betrayed the cause of justice. Inflicted upon the League a defeat such as it had not suffered in centuries. For all this, he had to die. Slowly, and painfully.

_Wait_. He paused to reconsider. Vengeance, no matter how sweet at first, was no substitute for justice. For righteousness. Killing him would not save the planet from the suicidal ravages of man. The only proper course of action was to regroup and rebuild, and look for the next opportunity to bring humanity back to harmony--or at least, whoever would remain after the inevitable purging. Still, he could not just ignore what had just happened. _I will kill him with my bare hands... No!_ Antediluvian thoughts still lingered, but he forced himself to fully reassert his rational faculties

A small smile crossed his face. Yes, he was going about it all wrong. There was no need for him to exert any effort to defeat him, for his defeat was already inevitable. _He seeks to save the people of __Gotham__, but he cannot save them from themselves. Indeed, the more he succeeds in his quixotic quest, the more the mindless masses will hate him for it. They will rise up and destroy him, and he will go down knowing that he failed not of his own accord, but of those he tries to protect._

That was the sorry lot of the policeman... of a "Detective." His smile became even broader. _Yes, 'Detective', run along and waste your life solving meaningless little puzzles. You could have taken my place, saved humanity... instead, you will live out your life as a measly Detective, risking your life to save the worthless, even as they inevitably die, even as they will hate you... _

Despite the swelling sense of schadenfreude, a tinge of regret still filled him. _Perhaps when the Detective realizes his quest is futile, he will come back to me and take his place at my side... at Talia's side... _Yes, despite all that had happened, he could not completely destroy his affections for him. All the positive aspects of his character remained--his strength and resiliency, his intelligence, his unshakeable will. Only his defective conscience stood in the way, and he was sure that as the years passed, the Detective would finally learn to see things his way.

Breathing deeply, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction. _I win either way. In the unlikely event the Detective somehow brings them back from the precipice, that will be a victory for the League. And if not..._

...It was decided. He would give the Detective a chance to prove him wrong, to lead the masses away from the path of self-destruction.

But his patience was not unlimited. _Work hard, Detective, for your time is running out. And when it is gone, you will have to deal with me once again..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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** ...Perusing the latest news, Ra's could not help but laugh. _The Detective wins again!_

He read and reread every last word in the various newspapers brought to him, but the details were still vague. One thing was clear: the Batman had defeated the Poison Lady with guile rather than brute strength. Of course, the corrupt and dying order he so futilely tried to protect had vitiated his victory, and matters were already sliding back down into chaos and decay.

_Will he ever learn?_

Reflecting on this comedy, a vague sense of interest filled him. _Like me, this Poison Lady senses that the world is dying under the ravages of man, and drastic action is needed. Her intelligence and... other assets could prove useful..._

He paused to think it over. Then decisively he shook his head_. No. The _Detective _managed to beat her!_ How useful could she really be?

_Not very._ Still, it never hurt to acquire new contacts, sources, and allies. He made a note to investigate further prospects.

Sighing, he could feel the moment of amusement pass, and once again an angry sadness at the Detective's misguided actions filled him. A tragedy, really--such potential, still being wasted on such a hopeless quest. _Perhaps my own crusade is doomed to failure, but at least I have the excuse of trying to save humanity itself. _

What honor was there in fighting for a cause not only doomed from the start, but a failure even if it were to succeed?

_None whatsover._

"Detective, you will have to do better than that," he said aloud to himself. Along with his disappointment, he felt an angry impatience growing within.


	3. Chapter 3

_(Several years later)_

To My Daughter Talia:

The time has come.

As we have corresponded over the years, I have made more than the usual effort to keep you abreast of events in distant Gotham City and of the activities of one Bruce Wayne. "The Detective" is my moniker for this remarkable yet flawed individual, for his focus is wholly upon dealing with the trivial. Blessed as you are with uncommon intelligence and memory, I will not bore you with the details of his life or the psychopathologies that played a major role in propelling him on this mad crusade. As preparation for the mission I shall set you upon, I will focus my discussion on post-Gotham events.

Most individuals who have faced Wayne's traumas would naturally have not set upon the extreme path that he has chosen, but the combination of his economic resources, and the same driven psyche which superior individuals such as you and I possess, has given birth to The Batman. Even a commoner could identify the fundamental flaws of his strategy: risking his life and fortune every time he goes out at night, deliberately limiting himself in terms of weapons and tactics, inherently incapable of working within even the rickety constraints of normal laws. Any other individual possessed of his resources and intelligence would have devised a myriad of other stratagems to combat criminality. Despite his halfhearted social welfare contributions, The Detective steadfastly ignores addressing the larger social, political, cultural, environmental and economic forces which impel individuals to break the law, meaning no matter how many individual lives he saves or aids, the net desperation of the masses inexorably increases.

This simple Malthusian truth would in and of itself be sufficient to discredit the endeavor, but his unique methods have in addition spawned an equally unprecedented socially degenerative response--the phenomenon of the so-called "supervillain". There is evidence that the individual known as The Joker began his trade not long after the Batman became active, but of course the woman Pamela Isley--colorfully named "Poison Ivy" by the Gotham press--was publically the first of these peculiar yet lethal individuals. I must confess a certain puzzlement as to the origins of this phenomenon. It may very well be some form of collective Jungian unconscious response to the methods of the Batman, perhaps a social analogue to Newton's Third Law. That it is connected to the Detective's activities is indisputable, for nowhere else on this wretched planet does this combination exist. In any case, were Bruce Wayne a little less stubborn and a little more open-minded, he would realize that his activities have only created a far more virulent criminal response than that of normal villainy. I do not have the exact totals, but certainly far more individuals have died at the hands of the Poison Ivy, the Penguin, the Joker, the Catwoman, the Two-Face and others, than all those who fell to the organized and unorganized criminal forces that existed in Gotham before the Batman began his crusade. And the personal cost to Bruce Wayne has simply been astonishing: the gruesome death of his childhood friend Rachel Dawes, the hideous transformation of his colleague Harvey Dent into the Two-Face, the near-death of his butler, and the second destruction of his family abode, so painstakingly reconstructed after my first encounter all those years ago. That he not only persists in this madness, but actually claims that it is of benefit, demonstrates the occasional validty of truisms; in this case, the definition of insanity as 'doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.'

But now I feel a critical inflection point has been reached. The Detective has, I must reluctantly admit, vanquished all his aforementioned foes, yet is no closer to his goal than ever before. Within his mind, no doubt a part of Wayne acknowledges the truth that his crusade has been a failure and should be abandoned. However, I am certain a much-stronger part of his psyche refuses to lay down this quixotic burden, for Bruce Wayne will never be able to accept the imperfect system of justice the mundanes endure. He is now ready to return to the League of Shadows, and recommit himself to the path of true justice. Unfortunately, I cannot be the agent of his rehabilitation--unlike myself, he is one to hold a grudge.

I therefore require you to travel to Gotham City and ingratiate yourself with Wayne. As my one and only progeny, you have been well-groomed and well-trained since a child for the task now before you. I am confident of your ability to carry out this mission successfully. You may use any method up to and including offering yourself to his whims in order to succeed. As Wayne is a physically impressive specimen with a not-disagreeable aspect to his persona, and possessing material and mental assets rivaling my own, he no doubt would be a more satisfactory suitor than the many others who have in the past unwisely approached you in this manner.

In this matter time is not of the essence, but as always in life it is better to proceed than to procrastinate. Included in this message is a wealth of additional information regarding Bruce Wayne, and his associates. Once you have absorbed this material, I ask for your approval in acceptance of this vital mission, and any preliminary thoughts you may have regarding how you shall accomplish your task.

I await your response with anticipation.

Your Father,  
Ra's al-Ghul

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To My Father: 

I am honored and delighted to take on this important mission. Bruce Wayne is a fascinating character, and I have genuinely appreciated and enjoyed the information you have provided to me about him over the years.

As is the case of a man of his background and status, he has much superficial experience with the opposite sex, but his traumas have left him incapable of sustained involvement with another woman. The death of Rachel Dawes has made him even more withdrawn from further such contact, but deep down, as you have observed, there is a part of Bruce Wayne that yearns for a prosaic life, even though the rest of him can never accept it. Bringing him into the League and into your household is likely the only compromise possible. He will resist, but in the end he will succumb. The great difficulty will be in finding the appropriate social context in which to encounter Wayne. After this contact is made, I am certain I can win him.

I cannot help but notice the subtle ambivalence with which you send me on this mission--even you are not immune to the age-old prejudices of patriarchy. Rest assured that I do this of my own free will, fully cognizant that there is a grander purpose which moves both our actions. Even if he were uncomely, I would have no hesitation becoming his strumpet. That he is most handsome only means that we shall both enjoy the pursuit and eventual union.

He will join us or die, I swear this with my very life.

In preparation for this assignment I wish to return to you so that we may scheme together. Please make arrangements for my return from London.

It has been too long, Father. I eagerly look forward to seeing you again.

Your Dutiful Daughter,  
Talia

**The End**

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_Author's Note: Alas, this must be the end of my Ra's story arc, at least for now. But if you're interested in reading more Batman Begins fanfic by me, be sure to check out my ongoing story "Batman: Green Dawn", the epic origin story of Poison Ivy!_


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